


The First Five Times Gabriel Called Sam 'Princess'

by FictionalNutter



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Fluff, M/M, Nicknames, Pet Names
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-10-29
Updated: 2013-10-29
Packaged: 2017-12-30 20:05:31
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,268
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1022844
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FictionalNutter/pseuds/FictionalNutter
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In which Gabriel has a new nickname for Sam, and Sam decides he kind of likes it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The First Five Times Gabriel Called Sam 'Princess'

The first time it happened, Sam had woken up in Gabriel's apartment, with no memory of having actually arrived. That wasn't out of the ordinary. Gabriel had a habit of kidnapping him while he was asleep. Rolling out of bed, Sam pulled on a t-shirt and headed towards the kitchen, where he could smell something sweet.

As it turned out, Gabriel was puttering around the kitchen in nothing but sparkly gold underwear and an apron, which again, wasn't really out of the in ordinary. Sam took one look at his archangel lover and the breakfast feast he was setting out on the table and grinned broadly.

"You know I love you right?" Sam came up behind him and kissed Gabriel on the cheek, patting him once on the ass and enjoying the slight jump he got as a result.

Gabriel rolled his eyes and shooed Sam away. "You're just saying that because there's pancakes."

"Pancakes, bacon, and pineapple," Sam corrected as he took a seat at the table. "Also, you're adorable and awesome."

Smirking, Gabriel set out the last of the food and dropped into the chair beside Sam. "Yeah, I love you too. Eat your breakfast, princess."

Sam raised an eyebrow at the endearment, then smiled softly to himself and took his first bite of pancakes.

* * *

The second time it happened, Sam and Dean were in the middle of nowhere, Arkansas. Dean was staring at a book, supposedly helping Sam with research, but he hadn't actually turned a page in a good thirty minutes. Sam had the laptop, but he wasn't making much headway either.

Sam's phone rang, and he flipped it open without looking at the display. "Hello?"

"It's a witch disguising his kills as werewolf attacks," Gabriel announced without preamble. "That's why you're having such a hard time figuring it out."

Sam processed that for a moment, looking at his research in a new light. "Gabe, you just saved me hours of dead ends in research."

"That's what archangel boyfriends are good for," Gabriel teased him. "We know lots of cool stuff."

Sam chuckled, fishing through his stack of research with one hand and tossing a handful of papers towards Dean, who caught most of them before they scattered. "Well, it's certainly helpful," he allowed. "Thanks, seriously."

"Anytime, kiddo. Kick Dean-o in the shins for me!" Gabriel's grin was perfectly visual, despite his absence from the room.

"No, I think I'd like to live another day," Sam said wryly. "See you when we finish the hunt?"

"Of course," Gabriel replied easily. "I vote beach vacation."

Sam smiled at the thought and nodded, even though Gabriel couldn't see him. "Sounds nice. Love you."

"Love you too. Stay safe, princess."

The line went dead, and Sam flushed pink. He glanced up to see Dean staring at him. "What?" Sam asked, self conscious.

Dean made a fake wretching noise. "You two are gross," he muttered.

Sam couldn't stop laughing.

* * *

The third and fourth time it happened, Sam was drunk. It hadn't been intentional, but somehow a beer at the bar in town had turned into tequila shots, and at some point Dean had disappeared to who knows where, so Sam was quickly becoming a giggly idiot with no inhibitions, and he was just aware enough to realize that wasn't a good thing.

"Whoa there, Samsquatch!" Gabriel appeard in front of him, eyebrows raised. "How smashed are you!"

"'m not smashed!" Sam protested. He furrowed his brow, thinking. "I'm..." he held out two fingers close together. "A  _little_ drunk." He paused again, then started grinning.

It took a second, but then Gabriel was grinning back. "You're adorable," He informed Sam matter-of-factly.

Sam made a dismissive noise. "No, you are," he shot back.

Gabriel's grin grew wider. "Why on earth haven't I gotten you drunk before?" He mused, more to himself than anyone else.

"Cause it's wrong to take advantage of people?" Sam offered sternly, the effect ruined by the following hiccup and return of the giddy smile.

Gabriel chuckled at that. "All right, princess, let's get you home."

"Wait!" Sam threw up his hands like he was stopping traffic. "Important question!"

"I'm listening," Gabriel told him, amused.

"Why d'you call me princess?" Sam asked, hiccuping again, causing his hair to bounce dramatically.

"Because you're important and precious," Gabriel replied immediately. "Now, bed. I'd imagine you'd appreciate being able to see straight in the morning."

"You're really nice sometimes," Sam commented, smiling peacefully. "I like you."

"Well that's a relief," Gabriel huffed as he put an arm around Sam, half-dragging him out of the bar.

"I think I like you calling me princess," Sam suddenly declared. "Just you though, cause you say it like you mean it."

Gabriel smiled and reached up to kiss Sam sweetly. "Of course I mean it, Sammy."

"'s good," Sam replied sleepily.

"All right, bedtime," Gabriel announced, snapping his fingers so they appeared in his bedroom in the apartment. He negotiated Sam into the bed, pulling off the hunter's shoes, then shed a few of his own layers and slid into bed next to Sam.

"Night, Gabe," Sam sighed, so low the archangel barely heard him.

"Night, princess," Gabriel responded, brushing his lips across Sam's forehead.

* * *

The fifth time it happened, Dean and Castiel were engaged in some kind of meaningful conversation that consisted entirely of starng, and Sam was doing his best to ignore them by researching on his laptop in the corner.

Gabriel appeared in the middle of the room, pouting. "Are you guys having a party without me?"

"Not a party," Sam replied easily. He glanced up and indicated Dean and Castiel, who had both broken their silent conversation at Gabriel's arrival. "They're doing that staring thing, and I'm researching."

Shooting a glance at Dean and Castiel, neither of whom were really objecting to the "staring" comment, chuckled and moved over to Sam's side. "Want to do something fun?"

"Define fun," Sam told him warily.

"You don't get out enough. No one should have to define fun," Gabriel complained.

Dean spoke up then, exasperated. "Dude, to be fair, your version of fun is ridiculous."

"I know!" Gabriel crowed. "We should go to medieval times!"

Sam raised an eyebrow, and Dean looked confused. "The restaurant?" He asked, puzzled. When Sam raised an eyebrow at him, Dean made a face at him in return. "Sue me, the brochure looked cool."

"The time period," Gabriel corrected him. "We can joust and everything!"

"No time travel," Sam said firmly. "We've got a hunt, and we can't just run off to the 1300's on a whim."

"C'mon, princess, please?" Gabriel needled him.

"I'll make you a deal," Sam told him. "You let us finish this hunt, then you can snap us to a reenactment in Europe or something."

"No time travel?" Gabriel double checked.

"No time travel," Sam confirmed. "Way too risky."

"You're no fun." Gabriel rolled his eyes, but seemed placated.

It took a moment for Sam to realize that no one was saying anything, and he glanced up again to see Dean staring at him, one eyebrow raised. It was then that he realized that Gabriel had never called him princess in public before. He managed to keep the blush at bay, and leveled a glance at Dean that clearly threatened bodily harm if Dean even dared bring it up. In response, Dean held his hands up in surrender and smirked.

Sam nodded once and turned back to his laptop. He didn't quite know why, but he liked Gabriel's special nickname for him, and he'd be damned if he let anyone make fun of it.


End file.
